June 2013 WitFits: S-Words
by itravelalone
Summary: She's only sixteen, but then again she doesn't seem sixteen when I teasingly whisper: "I'm gonna make sweet, sweet love to you, Honey B." And she answers: "I'd rather you fuck me instead." A part of the June WitFits (at least I'll try). AH, AU, M (because why else?)
1. Heist

**Well hi. I'm not really sure how these WitFits work, like if we're supposed to include the prompts in the drabbles or whatever, but I think I'll just write whatever pops into mind. Chapters will probably be longer than this. Probably. Hope you'll enjoy.**

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Prompt: heist

**Sixteen**

Sometimes I stare into my reflection in the bathroom mirror and ask myself what the fuck I'm thinking. I pull my hair and grind my teeth, but the reality is still there, and I'm fucked sideways to the moon if anyone finds out.

Sixteen.

She's only sixteen years old.

It's so screamingly obvious; in the way she twirls her hair, the way she bites her lip and the way she giggles when I kiss her neck. In the way she looks when she's all dressed up in her little leotard and smiles at me from the stage when she twirls, twirls and twirls again.

But then again—she's not sixteen in the way she talks about our future and how I'll go to California next year for college and wait for her until she finishes high school, and she'll make me dinner every day because she'll be spending more time in my apartment than in her dorm.

She's not sixteen in the way she rolls her hips when she rides me, or the way she sucks in her cheeks when she goes down on me, or the way she curses as I lick her up. She's not sixteen in the way when I teasingly whisper:

"I'm gonna make sweet, sweet love to you, Honey B."

And she answers: "I'd rather you fuck me instead."


	2. Dismiss

**Only slightly longer x**

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Word Prompt: Dismiss

Plot Generator—Binding Blurb: In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about branching out.

**School**

I think she's doing it on purpose. I know she is. She's wearing these tight, tight shorts that just about show the curve of her ass underneath and a tight, tight t-shirt on top and I _know_. I _know_ she wore them just for me. I can hear her loud "oh, no" from the other end of the room, and I watch as B stands up and slowly bends up and picks up her pencil, just hoping that someone—me—will notice her.

You bet your sweet little ass I notice you, Honey B.

I'm not the only one, though. Mikey notices, too. He whistles through his teeth and says, "man, that Swan girl has grown up!" and pretends as if his hand is her ass and smacks it with the other.

"Fuck, bro, you gonna hit that?" It's Tyler.

I want to punch both of them in their faces, but I can't, so I stretch instead and try to sound nonchalant.

"Nah," I reply. "She's sixteen."

"She's still hot, though. I might just go for it," Tyler says.

"She's _sixteen_," I say again. "Just a baby."

"Well, a hot baby, then."

"That's disgusting, man," Mikey says.

"You're both idiots," I say and pull out my phone as soon as they start talking about practice later tonight and text her: _I know what you're doing_

B replies: _I don't know what ur talking about ;)_

Me: _Stop teasing, baby_

Her: _Cum over tonight and I'll tease ya_

I draw in a sharp breath and snap my head up to glance at her. She's not even looking at me, and there are no signs on her face that she's texting me. Then suddenly she catches my eye, not obvious; only slightly sideways, and then she sticks her tongue out and licks her whole upper lip.

_Stop it, _I warn.

Her: _Stop what? I'm not doing anything, it's not my fault ur such a perv x_

I only reply one word back: _Midnight_


	3. Wail

_This is very unedited and very unbeta'd and very short._

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Word Prompt: Wail

Dialogue Flex: "How am I going to get through this evening?"

**Shots**

B and I are at the same party. Not with the same group of friends, because she's with her other sophomore friends, and I'm sitting with my group of seniors. I'm not even sure how you got in here or why you're here, but all the sixteen year old girls are being ridiculously obnoxious, including B.

"Ugh," Mikey says. "Someone tell Hot Baby and her friends to shut the fuck up!"

"Swan Girl! Come over here!" Tyler yells, making the whole group of girls stop laughing and freeze for a second before they start giggling again and push Swan around and towards us. They whisper and giggle and point and "what do they want?" and "ooooh my God, they know who you are!" is barely heard over the music. She literally saunters towards us, looking all fucking gorgeous with messy hair, dark eyes and a top and a skirt that show a glimpse of a toned stomach.

Mikey leans over the arm rest. "I don't give a shit if she's sixteen or not, she's _fi-ine_," he mutters.

Swan stops in front of us, hands on her waist and one hip jutted out to the side.

"Yes?" she breathes.

"Eh," Tyler says. "I was gonna say that y'all have to shut the fuck up, but since you're here, why don't you take a shot with us?"

"Um, well, all righ—" she starts, but I interrupt her and grab the bottle of Koskenkorva before her hand touches it.

"She's fucking sixteen, Ty," I say. "Just a baby." I look at her directly in the eyes when I say this, and she glares back at me. "She ain't drinking anything."

"Well, excuse me, mister," she says and tightens her grip on her waist. "Last time I checked, neither of you are exactly legal so if you don't want any trouble, give me that bottle and I won't tell Daddy." She blinks innocently at us.

Ty laughs. "I like you, Hot Baby," he says. "I like you a lot. Whatchu say, Eddie-Ed? We gonna let her drink or what?"

They all stare at me.

"All right," I give in. "One shot."

Hot Baby, Tyler and the rest of them all cheer, making me feel like I'm the parent and it makes me roll my eyes at them. I hand her the bottle, but now without letting my fingers grazing her hand, and I grin at her when I see her shiver.

One shot turns into two, three, four, six, eight before I can even blink and Hot Baby is drunk as a skunk. She's lying across Tyler, James and Mikey's laps like a cat and they're all enjoying it more than they should.

"Okay, I think that's enough," I say and I have to forcibly pull the bottle out of her grip.

"Noooo," she wails like a baby. "Just one more!"

"Baby, you've said that for the last six shots," Benji says.

"But I _neeeeeed _it!" If she was standing, I'd bet she would stomp her feet, she's so drunk. "How am I going to get through the evening?"

I don't like the look on Benji's face as he says: "Oh, baby, I think you'll do just fine."


	4. Dally, Ally, Rally

**Hey, Eddie-Ed-Ed. Please carry me home to bed :)**

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**Word Prompt**: Dally/ally/rally

**Sleep**

Swan ends up drinking way too much for her tiny body, and I stop her sometime between before she starts puking and after she almost starts stripping her tiny little clothes off. I try laughing it off with a "hey, hey, hey, okay, let's stop before we have Chief Swan on our backs" to massive boos from my dickhead friends, and grab her around the waist so that I can haul her into the hallway, telling her that I'll follow her home. I'm laughing, but I'm really pissed and horny because after all she was almost stripping, and I'm first and foremost a guy.

It's just after two, and while I know that her parents don't give her a curfew, they like her to be home by one thirty, so I pull I find her shoes which are ridiculous for this weather, her too-thin jacket and for good measure, I pull my beanie off of my head and place it onto hers and pull it over her eyes, just to make her drunk hiccup-giggle.

"You're so drunk, Honey B," I whisper into her ear.

"Wha-at?" she is laughing, unable to hear me over the pounding bass.

"Let's go outside, Drunk Girl."

She's wobbly on her heels, and is clutching my arm and dragging me down as she walks. I use my other hand to keep a grip on her jacket so that she won't fall. She's giggling the whole way, and I laugh too, though it's at her, not with her, because she's so fucking stupid.

"I'm drunk," she says and giggles again when we're outside, like I don't know already. Her breath makes clouds in the air in front of us. There are people outside, and when they spot us, some laugh and try to high five me for getting the chief's daughter, some look at me weirdly, but most are too drunk or too high to care.

"I know," I smirk. "Let's get you home, baby."

"Wha—no! No!"

"Yes," I insist. "Home. Bed. Sleep."

"I don't wanna go home," she whines and tries dragging me back into the house.

"Bella," I warn. "Let's go home. To sleep, all right?"

"Eddie-Ed-Ed," she mocks. "I don't wanna."

"Stop stalling," I say. "Don't be a baby."

"I'm not a ba-aby," she whines. "Stop being mean to me, Eddie-Ed."

She doesn't say anything more, and I'm thankful for that. She's being really annoying, pouting and everything, so I'm just ignoring her and pulling her along the few blocks down to her house.

The door's unlocked, so I just walk right in and push B in front of me, because she's still refusing to walk on her own. I push her up the stairs, and though I've been sneaking up these steps far too many times, I'm more grateful than ever that these aren't old and squeaky ones, even if she's being obnoxious and stomping extra heavily up the stairs.

I help her pull of her skirt and her top, and her shoes goes last before I lift the cover and give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Mmmm," she says with closed eyes and I'm reminded of how young she really is.

I stroke her hair and bend down to kiss her again, this time on her lips.

"Stay," she says when I make move to stand up. "I want you to stay with me."

"I can't," I say, but I don't think she's really listening. "Sleep."


	5. Tag

_Today's scenario didn't really fit in with the story so I'm kinda sneakily choosing to ignore this. And it's pronounced We-ess-c. Not Wesc. Please. Remember this is very much unedited x_

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Word Prompt: Tag

Scenario: While out at dinner with friends, you excuse yourself to use the bathroom. As soon as you open the restroom door, you're sucked into a time machine, and it instantly transports you back to...?

**Sneaky**

Monday morning I'm stopped four times even before I enter the school, all of them wanting to know if it's true, is it true, is it true? Did I sleep with the Chief's daughter? Did she go down on me in my car? Did I finger-fuck her behind the bleachers?

Yes she did.

Yes I did.

Not during the weekend, though, because she was too drunk to even stand up straight, so I tell them, "What the fuck, man? She's sixteen" and tell myself that I'm not _really _lying.

I don't see her until lunch, but when I do, I almost laugh out loud. She really, really looks like shit, like she's still so hung over she can't even keep her head up straight. While she usually dresses like a girly-girl, today she's wearing sweat pants and the WeSC hoodie I gave her for her birthday, and it's so strange to see but I kinda like it.

She's carrying her tray towards where her friends sit when Benji and Mikey yell for her. She startles, but turns around and walks towards our table without even looking back.

She balances her tray on her arm and pushes her hair back with the other. "What's up?"

Mikey laughs, "Man, you were on _fire _Saturday!"

"Ugh," she scoffs. "Don't remind me. I feel like dying right now, I swear I'm never drinking again. Can I sit here?"

She doesn't even wait for an answer and just plops right down in the chair next to me and even scoots her chair a little closer to mine. I try to give her a look, but she just shrugs her shoulders and start eating instead.

Tyler is being a dick and is constantly trying to change the subject to what happened between us when we left the party, Mikey's trying to ask her out and Benji's just being a fucking creeper and staring at her the whole time.

Suddenly, B hands me her rubber band, and automatically I take it from her hands and start shaping her hair into a ponytail, high up on her head just the way she likes it, but I realize we just almost screwed up when the boys stare at me weirdly. B's not even paying attention to us, and doesn't even notice when Mikey waves his hands and mouths "what the fuck?" at me. I roll my eyes and pretend that it's nothing.

The whole time she's talking to Benji and Ty, B's brushing her hands on the outside of my thigh, and while I like it, I have to remove it several times to keep myself from literally throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to the bathroom.

I'm almost grateful when the warning bell rings and she has to go to class while we can sit longer because of free period. She smirks at us before giving me a long, hard look and I'm throbbing with need and want and I think it's best for the both of us that she just walks away now.

"Bye, boys," she says. "If you let me sit with you tomorrow, I'll bring brownies."

"Oh, marry me," Mikey says, making her giggle and blow us all kisses before she walks towards the double doors.

Her friends are waiting for her there, and the last thing we hear before the doors shut close is her friend Rosalie's high pitches scream of "What the _hell _was that?".

"Jesus," Mikey says. "She's like, perfect. I love her. I swear I do. Do you think she swallows?"

"Dude, shut the fuck up, that's disgusting," Ty answers and punches his shoulder, and I laugh at him, but on the inside I'm saying, _Yes. Yes she does._

"Oh-kaaaay, I'm going now…" I stand up and grab my bag which I've shoved underneath my chair.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Away from you, dickheads."

"Awwww, come on, Edward, you're hurting our feelings here!"

I just laugh. Just as I walk through the doors, small arms are grabbing me around the waist and pulling me away and into an empty classroom before I can even wrap my head around what's going on.

"Hey, what the fuck?" I start, but when I turn around, I see Bella for like three seconds before she is throwing her arms around me and kissing me hard. I drop my bag to the floor and grab her around her thighs and pull her up, closer to my body, just to feel her and her tits against my body and kiss her back.

"I missed you," she pants into my ear and grinds her body into mine. "You didn't stay."

She's all over my body, touching, kissing, nibbling and grinding and I'm a groaning mess; I just can't get enough of this girl. Then she's off of me, and my belt is unbuckled and while I try to stop her, she just swats my arms away and pulls my pants down, then my boxers and then—

Shit!

It's been a while since she has touched me like this, but fuck me, she hasn't forgotten how. Her hands are hot and moist and glide easily up and down my cock and it's not long before I'm thrusting wildly into her hands, wanting more and more and more. Her fingers roll and spread the wetness over my head, down to the base and around my balls and—fuck.

My legs are shaking and I'm sweating and panting and _shiiiiiit_. I thrust a few more times and come hard into her small hands and I kiss her again over and over and right now I'm just so happy and satisfied I can't even talk properly.

"Fuck, B," I say.

She's giggling and wiping her hands on tissues she has taken from the desk. "You liked that, huh, baby?"

"Holy shit."

Now she's dragging a finger down my chest and looking coyly up at me. She kisses my neck and I bend down to kiss her on her mouth.

"Weeeell," she says, giggling again and dragging out the words. "Next time it's my turn. You're it."


	6. Texture

_Dear "Guest": I don't necessarily think this is a 'bad' relationship. Girls at that age often tend to date older boys and don't think much about it, but boys sometimes believe they're doing something wrong when they're dating younger girls. That doesn't mean that it's wrong or bad. When I was fifteen, I dated someone who was nineteen for almost three years, and it was three of the best years of my life. A friend of mine who was just a year older got engaged just weeks before her eighteenth birthday to a wonderful twenty-five year old man. She's twenty-seven now, and they're still married. It's not wrong._

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**Word Prompt**: Texture

**Plot Generator-Phrase Catch: **You can look but you can't touch

**Sway**

"_I said you can look but don't touch_."

She's got a foot propped up on the barre in the middle of the room with her left hand resting on top of it. She looks so beautiful with her dark locks wrapped up in a bun on the top of her head and a tight, tight leotard-covered body. The rough texture of her velvet suit is blinking in the sun, almost outshining her smile.

I've been watching her for the last couple of hours, her toned legs going up, down, up, down, round and round and round. Arms positioned over her head, smooth movements and elegant fingers.

She's in her right element, here in her dance studio.

She looks so beautiful as she twirls and twirls and I don't know what's more blinding; the studio spot lights or her smile. I tell her so, and it makes her giggle.

And I can't stop touching her.

My fingers hover over her waist, hands stroking the fine hairs at her neck, brushing against the outside of her thighs, touching her arms, her fingers, her cheeks and her stomach. I kiss her again and again and again until she's pushing me away with a not-so-serious glare and pointing at the chair I've dragged in from the hallway.

"Stay. There."

"I can't," I mutter. "I can't keep my hands off of you."

"You're distracting me," she says. "I can't dance if you're hovering all over me."

"I know you like it," I smile into her neck. "Don't even try to deny."

"I'm not denying." She's smiling now, leaning into my touch. "I rather like it when you touch me." She takes my hand and places it on her cheek: "here." She moves it down to her neck. "Here." Shoulders, breasts, stomach then _there_. "Here, here, here and here. I want you to touch me everywhere."

I kiss her again, lips moving softly against hers, tongues lazily against each other. "Whatever you want," I say against her mouth and touch her everywhere.


	7. Band

_I'm like, the shittiest writer ever (if I can even call myself that, lol). I know. But hey, that means three updates at a time._

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**Word Prompt**: Band

**Sing**

For B's birthday in September, I bought her concert tickets in Seattle to her favorite band. Man, she was so excited about it and I had the best night I've ever had in my entire life, she was thanking me so good.

A wet Saturday afternoon mid-November we drive out to the city, windows cracked open and hands resting on my thigh. She's wearing my hoodie and her dad's Seahawks snapback backwards and there's no other words than adorable for her. Her grin is so wide it stretches from ear to ear and she's loudly singing along with the radio and laughing the whole time. Several times she leans over the stick to hug or kiss me and I'm honestly enjoying myself just as much as she is.

And all I can think of, between hugs and kisses and sneaked smiles and music is that I really, truly and honestly love this girl.

…

I'm standing behind her, arms wrapped around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder as we are waiting to get out of the stadium. She's still sporting that grin, but her voice is missing from all the screaming and singing she's been doing for the last two and a half hours. I've been grinning just as hard, not so much from the music, but from watching her.

Bella grabs me by the back of my neck and pushes my head down to her level.

"Thank you," she whispers in my ear. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I'm not sure how to respond.

_Anything for you?_

_It was my pleasure?_

_No problem?_

_I love you and I feel like I could fucking die for you?_

I kiss her instead.


	8. Collide

_Do you even realize how fricking difficult it is to find a synonym for angry that starts with s?_

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**Word Prompt**: Collide

**Dialogue flex: **"I can't figure you out."

**Steaming**

"I just don't fucking get you sometimes!"

Bella is pounding her fist into the top of my chest, colliding with so much power that I have to take a few steps back. The tears in her eyes are breaking my heart, but there really is nothing I can do about it.

"Honey, I'm s—"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry," she squeals. "You're such a dick!"

While I don't give a rat's ass about the Winter Dance that's just around the corner, for Bella and her friends it's kinda a big deal. She'd "casually" mentioned that we should go together, but before I even had the chance to think about it, I said no, it wouldn't be a good idea seeing that no one really knows that we're seeing each other, and her dad would probably kill me if he ever found out. It didn't go over to well, and now I've got a pissed bee on my hands.

"I hate you," she says, tears falling freely now.

"Don't say that."

"I hate you, I know it, you're so embarrassed over me that you can't even stand to be seen with me in public, you bitch!"

"Don't say that," I say again, more quiet this time.

She doesn't even seem to hear me. "I don't even care anymore."

"Bella…"

"Fuck you," she says.

"You're acting like a fucking kid," I hiss at her. "Stop it."

That's a low blow, and I know it the second I see the look in her eyes. They're blazing. She looks gorgeous like this, angry as hell, and looking like she's ready to knock me down any moment. No make-up, hair thrown in a loose ponytail on the top of her head, a too big t-shirt which reaches to her mid-thighs and a pair of cut-off Levi's; I think it's the sloppiest I've ever seen her, but she's never been more beautiful.

Her lip is trembling now, though, and I immediately regret what I've just said, but there's no way I can take it back now.

I sigh. "Bella," I start, but she cuts me off again.

"Save it," she snaps. "Did you know that three guys asked me to the dance today? And I had to turn them down because I thought I was going with you?"

I feel my anger flare. "Who were they?"

"That's none of your fucking business!" she shrieks. "You don't even want to go with me, so I'll just find someone else instead."

"The hell you are!"

"Are you—" she starts but then stops and lets out a small huff. "Are you for real? I can't figure you out. You don't want to go with me, but you don't want me to go with anyone else either. Do you expect me to sit at home watching Sunday Night Football with my dad while everyone else is at prom? Shut the fuck up."

"Go alone," I say.

"No," she replies. "I'm gonna say yes to Benji. And there's not a thing you can do about it until you pull your head out of your ass and man up."

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_I realize this kinda jumpy in terms of the chapters, but I just want you to let you know that this is a drabble-fic that just gives you a peek into moments of B and E's lives and is not meant to be particularly cohesive. _


	9. Transient

_Hi. There should have been two updates today, but I really don't have enough time. I'll find out if I'm having an oral exam or not tomorrow morning. If I'm not, I'll be popping a bottle of champagne and there will be two updates tomorrow. Remember this is unbeta'd. Thanks x_

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**Word Prompt**: Transient  
**Plot Generator—Idea Completion: **Overlooking the obvious

**Swinging**

I'm all dressed up in a gray suit my mom made me wear and I'm watching B being swung around the dance floor by Benji. She's laughing and smiling so hard and I'm practically seething with anger and envy. Though I still think it's not a good idea to out ourselves, I think she's being childish for going out with someone else since we're clearly _something_, even though we—or I—don't really know what _this _is.

My eyes have been glued to her dark-painted lips all night, but it's just as hard to keep my eyes off her firm ass covered by a short, short black dress. It's long-sleeved and completely covered in the front but also backless. I just about had a heart attack when I saw her, not sure if I wanted to knock Benji down for having his hand on her bare skin or wrap my hands in her curly hair and kiss her until she can't breathe. Her legs are long and seem like they go on forever when she's wearing the high heels I gave her as a pre-Christmas present—I'm not really sure what to make of that move.

She's way too good for Benji. He hasn't even bothered to dress up, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt instead. B doesn't seem to care, though, even though prom is really important to her, and she seems to be having a good time. Which is what kills me.

None of the other guys have been able to score dates either, so I'm sitting at a table along with Mikey, Ty, James and a couple of our mates from the football team, drinking grey goose out of a flask that James' older brother Jasper got him. We're all acting like we don't want to be here, but in reality most of the guys just want to creep on all the pretty freshman and sophomore girls who are all wearing so ridiculously short dresses it's silly.

We're getting louder and louder as we drink more and I think I'm getting more obvious with my staring at B and Benji. At least she's meeting my eyes now, but I'm not sure if it's a good thing with the way she's glaring at me and pulling Benji tighter to her body. Benji sure looks pretty comfortable out there and although he's one of my best friends, I've never wanted to kill me any more than in that moment.

I know Bella well enough, though. I know that's she's getting frustrated with the lack of attention I'm giving her, and I know that all she really wants is for me to rip her out of Benji's arms and kiss her on the middle of the dance floor. And trust me, that's all I want to do to, but I just can't.

She's enticingly swaying her hips under Benji's hands, her own resting around his neck. Her crotch is dangerously near his, and when I see him grind against her without her protesting or pushing him away, I've had enough.

I ignore the swarm of lapdog-girls that have suddenly swarmed our little corner desperate for a drink and head out the door. I peel off at least two sets of hands from my body, all girls who're trying to keep me from leaving, but I just shake them off.

With narrowed eyes, I meet Bella's one last time before I slam the door shut and head off to my car, ready to go home and bury my head under my pillow.

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**Word prompts for next chapter are _whip, slip, grip _so that should keep your imagination running.**


	10. Whip, Slip, Grip

_Look I'm just a big fat liar_

* * *

**Word Prompt**: Whip, slip, grip

**Sea**

At first I was kind of pissed when Emmett called me at six a.m. the day after fiasco-dance to ask me if I wanted to go surfing down at First Beach. All I really wanted to do was to stay in bed all day long and maybe act like a three-year-old and beg my mom for homemade chicken soup, but Em wouldn't stop yapping about the _biggest waves I've ever seen, _dude, and it had been a while since I've been surfing anyway so in the end I just thought: hey, why the hell not.

I'm starting to regret it now; I'm cold as fuck and a shivering mess, but I'm determined to not give up before I catch at least one decent wave. Admittedly, the waves were bigger than we were used to, but not as big as I expected, and the weather had really mellowed down the last thirty minutes and I really don't think they're worth sitting in my wetsuit only in early December.

The wind is whipping around my hair, pushing my already wet hair into my eyes. As I push it back, I see Emmett signaling that he's giving up and paddling back to the beach where I spot a group of people watching the two of us. I see blonde hair next to dark brown, so my guess it's Rosalie and Bella.

Now I'm_ really_ hoping that there'll be one more wave. B has always liked it when I'm surfing and even though I'm sure she's still angry at me and I'm really pissed at her for acting like she did, I really want to impress her to.

The grip on my board is slippery from the cold water and I'm sure my lips have turned blue. Just before I'm about to give up, I see Emmett on the beach with a blanket over his shoulders spinning his hand around in a circular motion, and I jerk my head around and spot a massive set coming through.

I paddle, paddle, paddle until I feel the rising water nip at my toes and use all my strength and core to quickly stand up low on my board, hands out for balance and hips easy as I swing my body back and forth, back and forth, up and down to gain momentum. I ride it all the way to the beach and topple over as the next wave crashed down over my spent body. The water is pumping into my ear and it's freezing cold; a burning sensation is spreading from the tips of my toes and to my head, but I welcome it.

I welcome it all, especially the dark look in Bella's eyes I see as I resurface.


	11. Dizzy

_The last word prompt (amuse) didn't fit in with the story so bad as I am, I decided to skip it. Moving on:_

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**Word prompt: **Dizzy  
**Dialogue Flex: **"This isn't as easy as it looks"

**Sorry**

It's been five days since I've seen Bella and I kinda think—no, I _know_ she's avoiding me. Or she's been skipping school which I think is highly unlikely because she's such a goody-goody and I don't think she's even missed a single class in her life.

I've tried asking Benji about what happened after I left, but seeing his smirk and the way his eyebrows raised, I'm not even sure I want to know. I do realize that Bella's not my girlfriend, but I don't like her messing around with other guys either, even if it's just kissing.

So I've decided that enough is enough and I want to see her again, talk to her and kiss her, and most important, I'm horny as hell and I've been thinking about her body for the last week and I'm honestly at the point of bursting.

My car is parked outside of her dance studio, and I've only been waiting for a couple of minutes when I see girls come streaming out of the doors, but not Bella. After fifteen more minutes I start to get worried and decide fuck it, I'm going in.

I find her dancing.

She's still in her leotards, no tights this time, but she has a thick sweater on. She has her iPhone hooked up and Kanye West's harsh words are filling the room, contrasting with the soft movements of her body. Just like the last time I was here, she's twirling around and around and around and it doesn't seem like she's going to stop anytime soon. Is she even breathing? She's so fucking elegant it almost hurts my eyes.

As the song comes to a close, her eyes open and meet mine. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open as a blush covers her cheeks. I smile slightly when I see her covertly trying to pull down the bottom of her leotard so that it covers her ass more.

"Don't you get dizzy?" I ask her.

A new song starts playing.

It's Beyoncé this time.

"No," she answers.

She twirls again, slower this time, effortlessly. "But it's not as easy as it looks."

I toe off my shoes and take a few steps towards her, but she dances out of my reach, a teasing smile gracing her lips. I follow her. Stomping like an elephant compared to her, but at least this time she lets me touch her. I wrap one arm around her waist and place a hand on her neck and sway with her, singing softly into her ear. She's smiling wider now, and I know that I'm forgiven, even though I haven't apologized yet.

"I missed you," I tell her.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Me too."

It's on the tip of my tongue. Three little words that are going to tip her world upside down. I'm not sure if I can even say them. I will myself to tell her but I can't, I just _can't._ I hope she understands, though. I hope my touch, my kiss, my stares are enough.

_Listen,_ I sing with Beyoncé with my eyes.


End file.
